


Burn

by Toricchi



Category: Dragon Kishi-dan (Dragon Knights)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-08
Updated: 2008-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toricchi/pseuds/Toricchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saabel likes playing with fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thierrys](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Thierrys).



> Dubious consent and filthy mouths all around, so consider yourself warned. Overgrown comment porn for thierrys, who requested Saabel smut.

"Get out of the way, runt," Fedelta snaps, and tries to force him against the wall so he can pass. But he's a member of Nadil's army just as much as Fedelta is even if he doesn't suck up to Shydeman the way he does, and Saabel stands his ground. Fedelta twitches dangerously and the air around them suddenly becomes that much warmer: not a touch of summer, but a dry, unyielding heat that grates his lungs like sandpaper.

"I see they're still alive and kicking," Saabel says, and casually props his boot up on the wall, blocking Fedelta's way. "Not doing so well, are you."

Fedelta stiffens, a black snake rearing to strike. Dangerous to taunt him, since all Fedelta has to do is whisper a few words in Shydeman's ear and life will become very unpleasant for him. But Fedelta's not actually allowed to kill him and he knows the waiting is driving him crazy.

"The very second Nadil gives the order, I'll scorch them to ashes where they stand," Fedelta hisses. "And _you_ will be next."

"I'm quaking in my boots," he says, and gives Fedelta a lazy smile. Fedelta twitches, he smirks; about five seconds later the corridor explodes in smoke and he ducks. A scorch mark scars the wall where his head had been.

"Jesus, watch where you point that thing," he says, and makes a show of smoothing his hair down. And putting his heart back in the chest. Maybe Fedelta can't kill him, but there's a lot of pain and leeway in between. "Are you crazy or just incompetent?"

Fedelta grabs his wrist in a vice-like grip and forces him against the wall; the pressure of stone at his back knocks the breath out of him although he doesn't show it, can't afford to around Fedelta. "You don't want to make me angry."

"Really?" and he bumps against him, just to show he won't be cowed. "I'm not afraid of you, Fedelta."

"You should be," he whispers, teeth dangerously close to his ear, flickering long and sibilant like fire. "You have no idea what I could do to you."

"I bet I could guess," he says, and deliberately meets Fedelta's eyes. "I've seen all your tricks already. You're old news."

"Do you want to rephrase that?" Fedelta suggests, low and dangerous, and suddenly those fingers around his wrist are _burning_ and he yelps, forgetting himself, and tries to shake him off. Fedelta lets him with a smirk, and a perfect bracelet of red fingerprints is left imprinted on his wrist.

"Told you not to mess with me," Fedelta says, and stalks off with a self-satisfied whirl of cloak. But Saabel can't just let him go like that, so he calls after him, "Got an appointment with Shydeman? Better hurry, his bed's probably getting cold."

Fedelta stops dead still, and when he turns back, he's got his killing face on. "What did you just say?"

"Oh come on, it's not as if we don't all know," Saabel says with an airy shrug, and pushes off the wall. "Everyone's talking about how fast you came up the ranks. No one gets where you are that quick without sucking a few cocks. I gotta congratulate you, you must give a pretty good blow--"

"Shut up, you little prick," Fedelta snarls, and a wall of superheated air slammed him back into the bricks. The collision sends shooting pains up his spine, but he keeps a smile on his face.

"What's the matter, did I hit a nerve?" he manages, and Fedelta walks up to him and grabs him by the jaw, eyes black with rage.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, and you're lucky Nadil needs you otherwise I'd give you a lesson right now." Claws bite into his cheeks, and he thinks Fedelta has drawn blood. But Fedelta's eyes are almost bulging out of his head in anger, and somehow he can laugh.

"What, in cocksucking? Go ahead, it's been too long since I last had any," and he doesn't even see the blow coming in time to duck. His head cracks against the wall with a sickening thump, and now blood does run down his forehead.

"You think I'd ever get on my knees for vermin like you?" Fedelta spits, and oh yeah, his mouth says one thing, but his cock pressing against Saabel's thigh says something else altogether.

"You get off on slumming with the vermin?" he says, bucking against him, not hard enough to throw him off but enough to create some friction. "Thought you were too good for the drones, pretty boy."

"Shut the fuck up," Fedelta snaps and pops him one across the face, a red streak burning the instant he makes contact, a hundred little needles of fire driving into his skin. He tastes blood, and Fedelta's face is scarlet with it as well, dangerous and somehow irresistible, and Saabel has never been able to not do what he shouldn't. So he leans over and licks the corner of Fedelta's mouth. His skin is dry, hot as the barren desert, and acrid with smoke. Fedelta shoves him off and he loses his balance and stumbles into the wall, wiping blood from a smile he can't shake.

"You little..." and Fedelta's above him, driving him back into the wall."You think you can touch me?"

"You liked it, didn't you?" he gets out as Fedelta's hand closes dangerously around his throat. His skin is hot and tingling all over like it does before he steps of Galaba and floats in freefall, or when he fights with the dying for their souls, take theirs or lose his own, as simple as that. "Wanna go a round?" he whispers, and grinds his hips against Fedelta obscenely. He can hardly breathe, sparks flying across his vision.

"You disgust me," Fedelta says, but he's undoing his breeches. He yanks on his shoulders, but Saabel's already off-balance and it's a short fall to the floor, knees hitting cold stone with a thump that makes his bones rattle; Fedelta's cock pressing against his cheek.

"Obviously not enough," he says, and licks a long stripe down the underside. He tastes warm and salty; soldiers always reek of sweat, dirt and dust. "Shydeman doesn't give you the reach-around? Poor baby, you must be dying for it."

"Don't you ever shut up?" Fedelta snarls, and tries to shove his cock the rest of the way down his throat. Saabel clenches his fist as his body tries reflexively to fight him off, and forces himself to relax. It's been a while. His knees ache on the stone floor, but he doesn't feel the cold seeping through the stone because Fedelta is hot, so hot, in his mouth, against his body, burning him up. He smiles and Fedelta slips easily all the way, a trick he's spent ages practicing because he's always wanted to push things to the absolute limit, to learn how far they go before they break.

Fedelta's too professional, too much a soldier—hates him too much- to betray too much emotion. But one of the things Saabel likes best about bodies is how truthful they are. Fedelta's mouth is twisted in the same snarl, like he smells something unpleasant, his body taut and ungiving, and he looks past Saabel like he isn't there, but Saabel has sharp eyes, good senses, and he can feel it under Fedelta's skin like a earthquake rumbling down a faultline, just the slightest chink in Fedelta's armour: an exhalation just a little louder than normal, a twitch he can't disguise. He thinks of making Fedelta beg, wonders if he could do it, what it would sound like, and the air in the tunnel gets even hotter, like Fedelta can hear his thoughts and is responding in kind.

"Don't smirk at me like that," Fedelta snaps, and his hands move, dropping into his hair to clutch painfully and make him stay where he is. Saabel's cock throbs in response, and yeah, maybe he's sick for getting off on this, but no one's ever said he's right in the head. He feels the blood-heat of Fedelta's skin, and his own pulses following the same crazed tattoo, a symphony created by a madman, uneven jolts at wrist and throat that threaten to break through his skin.

"Jesus--you little--" Fedelta says and stiffens, before melting against him for one brief, perfect second as he comes, just like a girl, the soft, silky skin of his inner thighs trembling despite his iron-hard control. Bitterness floods his mouth, and Fedelta's claws hold him there to make damn sure he swallows.

"Needs practice," Fedelta says coarsely, and pushes him out of the way with a heavy boot. Saabel comes up rolling, wiping his mouth. He can still taste him.

"You're the first to complain," he says with a shrug, and bounces to his feet, careful not to betray his unsteadiness. His knees hurt. "Then again, beggars shouldn't be choosers. Right, Fedelta?" he says with an insolent grin.

"Don't think you'll get the chance again," Fedelta says.

"What a shame." He giggles girlishly and bats his eyelashes. Fedelta growls and stalks out the tunnel, and the temperature drops rapidly as he disappears into the blackness and out of view. Saabel falls heavily against the wall, groaning. His knees _hurt_, and he can feel that they're scraped in a few places from the rough stone through the thin material of his breeches. His jaw, the back of his throat, his fingers all ache.

It feels _good_, like he's full of life, sight and scent still full of Fedelta, a hot smoky wisp that still remains. His cock presses painfully against the seam of his breeches, and he scrambles his buttons undone with stiff fingers. The first touch of his own hand makes him groan and rest his head too roughly against the wall, wondering what it would take to get Fedelta to do this for him, get that fiery, sulky mouth on his knees for him, feel that rush himself...

It doesn't take long, still jumped up on the post-sex rush, blood pounding through his veins, everything nicely heated up and raring to go. He spills into his own hand, rubbing the mess absentmindedly through his fingers. For some reason he's laughing, the sound bouncing oddly off the stone walls and reverberating, like a thousand voices cackling madly instead of just his. He wipes himself off roughly and licks his lips, chasing the last of Fedelta on his tongue from the corner of his mouth, bitter enough to make him gag, but somehow he likes it. He's just realized something.

Saabel tucks his hands in his pockets and sets off down the tunnel to report to Nadil, whistling.

He's going to have Fedelta's soul one day, and it's going to taste _so_ good.


End file.
